not the it girl

Just here for the aesthetics

[saniasoherverdy]

Perhaps there is love in just eating apples on the porch with your favorite person or peeling pomegranate for someone you love. Perhaps , love is just stored in watching TV together every night and claiming there is nothing to watch. Perhaps, love is just preparing a noon chai cup for your loved ones before they wake up or letting them sleep an extra minute. Perhaps, love is stored in the words of someone or it's stored in holding hands. Perhaps, love is speaking everything with just your eyes or in remaining silent. Perhaps, love is all of this and that and perhaps it's just you.

[saniasoherverdy]

Half year passed and another year of people asking "So what's next?" like life is some straight highway and not a stupid maze I'm walking through blindfolded.

They say you’re supposed to have Passion, Drive. But most days i can’t even find the energy to care. And they promised me a great future but I’ve realized the future isn’t some shining city, it’s just more of this: scrolling, pretending, trying to want things you don’t actually want.

And everyone else seems to be running full-speed toward something. I? I'm just here. Existing in the in-between. Not failing, not succeeding, just stuck in the whatever of it all.

And the worst part? I'm tired of my own excuses. Tired of the "it’s okay to not know" pep talks. Tired of wearing "lost for a while " like a second skin.

But here’s the ugly truth no one says out loud: you always need a purpose. Maybe you just need to stop lying about being fine with not having one.

[saniasoherverdy]

"Your heart is just like a forgotten Notes app, scattered drafts of texts you’ll never send, half-finished thoughts that ache like a phantom limb. You scroll through the wreckage of all the almosts: a voice note left on read, their Spotify playlist still pinned to your profile, their pictures in your phone, the way your thumb hovers over their contact like a cliff diver afraid of the drop. Attachment feeling like a graveyard of unanswered streaks and expired ‘last online’ timestamps. And then the screen glows 3 AM blue, and you’re just a person in the dark, staring at the ellipsis of a something that never comes."

[saniasoherverdy]

Suddenly you're 20-something. The age when the world expects you to "become" but no one tells you how to do it when your insides are a hollowed-out shrine , echoes bouncing off of your ribs like unanswered prayers.

Your phone is a graveyard of half-finished conversations & Friends - a scroll past in a blur of stories you no longer recognize. Everyone's moving, marrying, molding into something solid while you dissolve like sugar in lukewarm coffee. The future doesn’t feel like a path rather a hallway of locked doors, and you’re knocking, always knocking, but no one’s home.

Nights are the worst. The silence hums, a tinnitus of the soul. You lie there, choking on the weight of being just "not-enough", wondering when existence became a performance you forgot the lines to. You were promised "meaning", but all you got was an endless to-do list written in someone else’s handwriting.

And the loneliness, it’s not the absence of people. It’s the absence of "recognition". You scream into the void, and the void screams back "prove it". Prove you matter. Prove you’re not just carbon and borrowed time.

[saniasoherverdy]

"Dead Names"

I collect the bones of old lovers in the back of my throat. I let them rattle there when I speak, when I laugh, when I shout someone else’s name into the dark. Everyone is just another skeleton now and I keep waiting for the missing to hurt less. It doesn’t. It just becomes familiar, the way a scar is familiar, you stop noticing it until someone else points it out and then i forget. Their face, the sound of their laugh. First the texture, then the tone, then the fact that it ever mattered at all.

[saniasoherverdy]

"You are a library of lost things"

You are the book no one checks out anymore.

The spine cracked from being loved too hard once.

Your pages smell like 3 am,

and all the hands that couldn’t hold you right.

And people don't know how to read between your lines.

The librarians keep you on the shelf like a secret.

They say every story has been told,

but what about the one where you don’t end up a footnote in someone else’s life?

Funny how being forgotten feels like quiet,

not like vanishing but like the pause between

"I miss you" and "I don’t say it."

[saniasoherverdy]

Soft Places

(we are so bad at saving ourselves, but maybe we could practice on each other.)

I know you keep your sadness in a shoebox under the bed and that we are both just collections of half-healed things pretending to be unbreakable. I know sometimes you forget to eat and just pretend to brush your teeth. But listen, if the sky split open, would you let me be the one who counts your ribs like piano keys?

If the train comes, I will not write poetry about your body scattered on the tracks—I will yank you backward so hard we both taste blood.

Some days, the weight of living sits heavy as a wet coat. i know because i’ve drowned in showers too. But when you whisper I can’t do this anymore , I will point to the proof; the tea you made this morning still warm in the cup, the way the cat leans into your ankles like you’re the only solid thing left.

We don’t have to be miracles. But let’s at least be the reason the other one remembers to turn on the kitchen light before dark.

[saniasoherverdy]

“I Loved Like a Cathedral on Fire”

I loved you the way saints catch fire;

with bare feet on ice,

knees kissed raw by prayer,

tongue reciting your name,

like a fever breaking.

There is no logic, only light;

the kind that blinds and baptizes

all in one breath.

You did not ask for worship,

but I ,

I brought you the incense of my silence

and the offering of my soul.

For all you are, there's no other love that i know.

[saniasoherverdy]

I always struggle to remember that people generally think of me as a cool girl & that i look and act different than how i did at 14. Actually when you grew up as a lonely uncool girl it never stops haunting you by the way. You will meet a cool person at your College or the Train Station or at a friend's party and you can wear your most stylish outfit and striking eye makeup and you will still swear that they can see through all of the facade. They'll see the lonely terribly insecure teenage girl you used to be who desperately wanted to connect and you will swear that they know that there is like an insurmountable gap between you. This will happen forever & i don't know if you can fake confidence until you cannot.

[saniasoherverdy]

There are days when love feels like homecoming, and there are days when it feels like walking into a house you once lived in—familiar, yet strangely distant. The heart becomes just a question, not an answer. When we have it all , it feels like the world keeps spinning without us noticing, & when we lose it, we wonder did it spin for us all along ? Storms come, loud and unrelenting, but they pass and your poor heart tries to find meaning in the drops that fell when you couldn't catch a single one of them at all.

[saniasoherverdy]

Hasn't it been a long time since we're away from ourselves? You return, but the walls have shifted, the words feel foreign, and the silence—oh, the silence—it is no longer just a pause but a presence. At first, it is just a quiet moment, a pause, a breath. But then it stretches—turning into an absence, a space too wide to cross. If time keeps moving but I stay here, waiting, does that mean I was left behind? Maybe that is the cruelest trick of time— not that it moves forward, but that it takes the sound of things with it.

[saniasoherverdy]

When the World said, "You have Pretty Eyes "

But Faiz said,

Teri Aankhon k siwa Duniya mai rakha kya hai?

There's nothing in this world other than your eyes.

- Faiz Ahmad Faiz

[saniasoherverdy]

April 16th , I wish i could disappear in the Dark Clouds Today??

[saniasoherverdy]

Spring is really like , i brought you some sunlight from when you were 10 . Didn't the world feel so bright to you then? I'll drench your hands in watermelon syrup nostalgia, so everything you remember is stained pinkly bittersweet. I'll ruffle your eyelashes with an ice-kissed breeze -- and it'll be the kindest touch you've had in years. And yes! , You would finally feel something. I'm the last luke warm hand you hold before summer surrender.

[saniasoherverdy]

I wanted to find you,

But no one let me out the door.

They said you forgot me, you're dead,

But if I dreamt about you last night,

Then you would be somewhere?

Denial is the worst form of self delusion they say!.

But here I am, imposing it on myself,

For you,

because even though you turned your back on me,

I'll never stop loving you for what you were and what you are.

[saniasoherverdy]

I read somewhere that , When Adam bit the apple he did it because he trusted Eve. Because he loved her. Adam bit into the apple because the woman he loved told him to, no matter what God said. No matter the rules of heaven.What's heaven to a woman's love anyway? What's God to your wife?

The first sins of humanity, were “trusting” , trusting others. Eve trusted a snake, Adam trusted Eve, and I, I trust you . Maybe Right and Wrong was born there. Maybe that's a sin, just like the first couple. And Maybe, Maybe everyone's right about us and we're sinners and we offend God. But like I said, what's God to love anyway? What has heaven got that I can't find sitting next to you on a cool autumn morning?

[saniasoherverdy]

I am stuck in an eternal state of yearning in which i romanticise and fantasise about all the lovers and all the lives i will never experience.